


Refutal

by moonside



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aftercare, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Ignis is an enabler, M/M, Rough Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, bareback, daemon-ish noctis, noct's magic makes him do these things i swear, prompto is just a total cockwhore, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonside/pseuds/moonside
Summary: Noctis and Prompto never actually start dating, not officially. It just sort of... happens, when they start fucking.It's the days when Noct is forced to go see the crystal, to embrace the frantic crackle of magic, that they like best. The days that follow are when Noctis doesn't hold back.And Prompto has really always loved those hands of his.





	

Noctis and Prompto never actually start dating. Not officially, anyway. It just sort of happens gradually, over time. They start spending more and more time together. Before they know it, Noct is winning games at the arcade and giving Prompto the prizes with little triumphant smiles. Then they’re stealing the Regalia so they can park it out of town, at some ridiculously romantic spot that gives them a vantage of the entire city under that shimmering magical bubble, and they spend it in the backseat, making out, venturing into heavy petting zones with shirts hiked up and uneven, hot breaths against each other’s skin.

 

Eventually, they start fucking, and Prompto is quick to tell himself that it’s just experimentation, that it’s the teenage hormones driving them insane. He reminds himself that Noctis is the prince, he has duty and obligations, and their newfound friends with benefits situation is just a side-effect of all that stress.  And Noctis? Well, Noct is even more adamant about that fact, that it’d just be absolutely stupid, dumb, insane, to be in love with his best friend. Nope.

 

Nevermind that his days generally consist of school, grabbing fast food with Prompto after, and then dragging his ‘best friend’ back to his apartment for a night of video games, movies, and ridiculous fucking. Nevermind that Noct feels so fucking stressed from the overwhelming reality that his dad is getting older, that his knee is getting worse, that the magic is drawn more and more to him every day. He feels like he’s drowning, and the only escape is when he’s buried balls-deep inside Prompto, when their bodies are pressed tight and hot and slick together, when their hips move and he’s making Prompto scream his name.

 

Noct’s totally in love, but he’ll deny it until… well, until he stops being a stupid, spoiled, teenage brat.

 

In the meantime, he throws himself into their fucking. Sometimes, after Noct’s dad forces him to visit the crystal, he’s consumed by bright, crackling magic. Sometimes he feels the after-effects for days, even after his eyes return to their normal colour, even after he’s back in his own mind and can think again, can breathe again without feeling that strange rush.

 

Those strange hazy days that follow are their favourite kind of days. Prompto gets this wild look in his eyes, and he makes _suggestions._ Ones that Noctis would normally blanche at, but once Prompto makes the suggestions, when Noct has that particular mindset, the ideas will stick, until they find themselves tumbling into bed together and doing all sorts of crazy, depraved things.

 

That’s how they find themselves here, on this particular day. It’s a weekend, and Prompto didn’t even bother to go home the night before. He sleeps over, more often than not, and Noctis is adamant they aren’t living together, even though Prompto’s toothbrush is next to his bathroom sink, even though Prompto’s ridiculous collection of cosmetics is covering a good portion of the bathroom countertop, too. And at some point, Noct’s drawers became full of Prompto’s clothes, too.

 

Ignis snuck in at some point and made them fucking breakfast, left it covered in plastic on the kitchen table. He left two portions. Noctis is still determined that Prompto’s just his best friend. He’s denying it all, even going as far as to think that Ignis has _no idea._ Ignis knows.

 

It’s well past noon when they crawl out of bed and eat. It’s well into afternoon when they find t heir way back into bed.

 

“ _Noct,”_ Prompto is whining that particular desperate, needy tone when Noctis gets the first two fingers into him. They fucked last night, and it’s still kinda sloppy, messy. They really should have showered, but they’re in those delicate late teenage years where they don’t fucking care, where they’re thinking mostly with their dicks anyway.

 

“I know,” Noctis groans, and he’s got that hazy quality to him that comes with the magic rushing through his body. His eyes are back to normal, they don’t glow anymore, and he’s as rational as he can be when he’s stretching Prompto open. “You feel fuckin’ good,” Noctis added.

 

Prompto whines again when Noct pulls his fingers out, fumbles between them to slick three up with more lube. “I can handle it,” Prompto’s biting at his lower lip, thighs trembling a little as he spreads them wider, offering up more.

 

“Yeah you can,” Noct agrees, and three fingers go in easier than they probably should, stretching Prompto’s rim open in a way that’s gotta burn a little. But Prompto just lifts into it, bucks his hips, outright moans when Noct twists his fingers just right and bumps over his prostate.

 

“ _Fuck Noct,”_ Prompto’s got one hand tangled in the sheets, the other reaches down, grabs Noct’s wrist when he shifts to withdrew. “Don’t.”

 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Noct is usually terrible at dirty talk, too. Their sex, more often than not, still has that fumbling awkwardness to it, though they’ve learned what the other likes by now, through trial and error. These fleeting, precious days though, where Noct lets himself go, he has an absolutely filthy tongue sometimes, and Prompto fucking _loves_ it. Gets off on it, in a way he doesn’t want to really think about, honestly.

 

“I do want you to fuck me,” Prompto tugs Noct’s hand deeper though, sighs when Noct’s fingers drive in all the way to the knuckle. His voice is breathless, and his eyes are dangerous, and there’s something _else_ coming though, they both know it.

 

“You have really fucking nice hands,” Prompto adds, and Noctis is mildly intrigued by where this is going. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he twists his fingers a little deeper, spreads them in a way that opens Prompto up even more, and they both make soft, aroused sounds at the sensation of it.

 

There’s no denying that Prompto’s enjoying it though. Maybe it’s the thought of how fucking _dirty_ this is, but Noct is enjoying it too. Prompto’s cock is hard, flush and leaking against his belly, and Noctis is eager to get inside and fuck him rough and wild into the mattress. He wouldn’t mind a good finger fuck either though, if that’s what Prompto wants. Noct’s eyes narrow as he thinks about it, about watching Prompto come, his erection needy and untouched, just from being split open by his fingers, and it’s a good thought. Maybe he’ll get off on his face after, and that’s an even better thought.

 

“More,” Prompto groans as Noct curls his fingers again, and Prompto’s ass clenches around him, tight, but so wet, from too much lube and semen from the previous go, because they’d run out of condoms and they decided they didn’t _care_ anymore.

  
“More?” Noct doesn’t know how a fourth finger will fit, but Prompto’s begging, so he leans in further, presses a rough nip to Prompto’s neck and the fourth finger goes in. There’s a sharp hiss and Prompto’s thighs twitch and jerk. It’s such a tight squeeze, the rim of his ass is stretched wide around Noct’s fingers, but it’s so goddamn hot, so mesmerizing, Noct doesn’t think for a moment about stopping.

 

Noct’s cock isn’t small by any means, but it’s not overly large. It’s average, which, for a teenage boy, is honestly a pretty devastating thought. It’s definitely not as wide as the four fingers he has crammed into Prompto’s ass, all the way to the knuckle. It’s uncomfortable it’s gotta hurt because Prompto is breathing heavily, panting outright. Noct would withdraw, would express some sort of _concern_ but there’s  a heavy strand of precum connecting Prompto’s dick to his belly and the moans he’s making are definitely not entirely from pain.

 

“Holy shit Prom, you look good,” Noct only gives him a minute to adjust, then he slips his fingers out to the first knuckle—enough to make Prompto hiss with the loss, and Noct knows he can handle it—then he slams them back in, curling upward, scraping over his prostate.

 

Prompto fucking loses it, outright _yelps,_ fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets and hips bucking upward. “ _Noct,_ ” he manages, his eyes watering, tears streaming from the corners and running into his bed-messy, matted blonde hair. “ _More._ ”

 

Noctis stares at him for a moment, eyes going a little too wide as he tries to process the meaning of it, of _more,_ when he’s got four fingers buried inside and Prompto’s rim is stretched tight and burning around his hand. Then he realizes it, and Noct’s cock twitches, dribbles against his own belly, his balls drawing tighter with the thought of it.

 

“It’s gonna hurt like hell,” Noctis warns, but his eyes are narrowing again, and he swears to fucking god he can still feel little thrums of magic in his veins, that his eyes are tinging over with that faint violet hue they get when he’s been too close to the crystal for any comfort. “You sure?”

 

Prompto’s bucking his hips down into Noct’s fingers still though, and he’s making the most undignified, sexy noises every time the angle is just right and rubs over that spot inside of him. “Just shut up and do it Noct,” he’s encouraging, still, between gasps and pants. Prompto’s chest is heaving with the effort of it, a thin sheen of sweat slicking his skin, and he looks damn near close to coming utterly untouched. It’s the hottest fucking thing Noct has ever seen.

 

Noctis nods, and he keeps his fingers buried inside as he fumbles with his free hand, the one that isn’t half-sucked into Prompto’s ass already, for the lube again. Noctis finds it, and he has to admit, he’s a little overeager as he spreads it over his thumb and his palm and slicks up nearly to the wrist. He spills some of it, getting lube all over Prompto’s ass and thighs and down over the bedspread. It doesn’t matter much about the sheets though—they fucked hard and heavy in them last night, slept in their own mess, and there’s dark stains all over. They don’t care though, not earlier, and especially not now.

 

Noctis can’t keep his eyes off Prompto as he adjusts his hand. He splays his fingers, attempts to stretch the swollen rim of Prompto’s ass wider, and then, miraculously enough, the tip of his thumb starts to slip in, joining the other four.

 

It’s so fucking tight, so hot that Noctis can barely stand it, can barely contain the little moan that escapes. And Prompto? Prompto looks absolutely fucking wild. He’s broken eye contact by now, his head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut and tears clinging wetly to heavy, thick eyelashes. Prompto’s dick is impossibly hard on his belly, his abdomen clenching, and Noctis swears to fucking god his belly almost looks distended, Prompto is so full of him.

 

“Holy fuck,” Noctis tries to say, but the words come out as an outright growl when his thumb slides in all the way, all the way to his knuckles, the widest part of his hand pressing in.

 

 _“more,”_ is all Prompto manages, and his thighs are trembling, shaking uncontrollably, even as he lifts his hips, tries to buck into the hand splitting him wide open. It’s got to hurt, has to be burning and intense and maybe even too much, but Noctis can’t focus on any of that, only the fact that Prompto’s ass is taking him deeper, squeezing, and suddenly Noct’s hand is buried all the way in, bottoming out.

 

Prompto _screams_ when Noctis tries to withdraw. He pulls out just a little, an inch or so, and he’s met with little resistance when he presses his fist back in. It’s impossible, Prompto is so tight, and it should hurt too much, he should be stopping him. But Prompto’s bucking frantically, one hand tangling desperately in the sheets, attempting to grip the mattress outright to brace himself and pull Noct deeper. He’s got this expression on his face that Noctis interprets as ‘I’ll fucking kill you if you stop’, but words are beyond Prompto, so Noct really isn’t sure. He doesn’t stop though, and his fucking hand hurts, it’s pressed so tight inside and his wrist aches, but he keeps going.

 

Prompto’s making the most amazing noises, his thighs spread as wide as he can manage, his hips tipping into each thrust of Noct’s hand. It’s intense, there’s nothing but white noise blaring in Prompto’s ears and his eyes are unseeing at this point, scrunched together and tearing up from the fullness, the overwhelming pleasure-pain. It’s when Noct’s fingers scrape over his prostate again that Prompto finally _screams,_ and he comes so hard. He clenches down on Noct’s fist so hard that Noctis yelps in pain, but it’s totally worth it just to watch Prompto’s cock twitch as it spurts hot-white streaks over his tense stomach, all the way up to his chest.

 

It’s sloppy when Noctis finally works his hand free, and Prompto shudders and moans and whimpers a few times with the effort of getting his hand out, he’s so spent and stretched open and utterly _oversensitive._ There’s lube everywhere, and old come from the last time they fucked, and Noctis is really fucking well aware that they need a goddamn shower.

 

“ _Noct,”_ Prompto whines, as he manages to open his eyes, bright and brimming with tears, red around the edges and only half-seeing, really. There’s a certain commanding, desperate, exhausted need to it all though, one that catches Noct’s interest immediately.

 

“That was okay?” Noctis responds instead. He’s still hard—painfully so, the tip of his cock swollen and aching and wet from the utter depravity of spreading Prompto wide and sloppy like an absolute slut. Noctis doesn’t wanna admit how hard it’s made him though, and he thinks he should be concerned, because even if Prompto outright asked for it, it was a lot.

 

Prompto seems to be struggling to find words. He nods once, twice, opens his mouth, shuts it in a hazy blur, and there’s another fat tear streaking from the corner of his eye down the side of his face to mix into sweaty hair.

 

“Wanna make you come too,” Prompto manages finally, his voice hoarse from the screaming, but there’s still an impossible neediness. Noctis draws in a deep breath. His erection agrees with the sentiments, hot and needy and giving another little surge against Noct’s stomach.

 

So Noctis crawls up, over Prompto. He’s careful to avoid putting any weight on him, moves so his knees are planted on either side of Prompto’s head, weight braced on his hands gripping the headboard tight. Prompto’s always been a cockslut in _this_ way, this is nothing new, something familiar, but still so fucking thrilling. Noct thinks maybe he should hold back, but Prompto’s tipping his head back, mouth open as he takes Noct’s erection into his mouth, and Noctis forgets to think about anything else.

 

He fucks Prompto’s face fast and rough, hips rocking and displacing saliva all over already wet cheeks, over swollen lips, until it’s dripping down Prompto’s chin. It’s a good angle, lets Noctis go balls-deep until the head of his cock presses down into Prompto’s throat. It damn near chokes Prompto, but he’s good at this, talented at giving the most mind-blowing blowjobs, and he takes it with ease, breathing when Noct pulls his hips away. His tongue is working the underside, his throat clenching around the tip, and it takes Noctis an embarrassingly short time before he’s tensing and he comes too, hard and rough with a final stroke down Prompto’s throat.

 

Noctis thinks maybe he moaned Prompto’s name, but he isn’t sure. He’s a little bit boneless when he pulls away, thumb pausing to wipe a strand of saliva from the corner of Prompto’s lip. Then Noctis collapses in a heavy pile next to Prompto, the world spinning, everything a haze of white-hot pleasure and blurring his vision.

 

Slowly, as Noct comes down, he realizes Prompto’s shifted a little, until he’s wedged himself in tight. Noctis adjusts, moves onto his side and throws an arm around Prompto’s waist to draw him close.

 

“… you okay?” he murmurs, voice quiet, heavy, because they just had some fucking intense, amazing sex, and Noctis doesn’t really know what to think of it. It was good, amazing, overwhelming. His softening erection is still wet with Prompto’s saliva, and even though he’s wiped his messy hand off on the sheets, his wrist aches and his fingers are sore. Noct feels a little uncertain though, feels like there’s more to all of this, and he doesn’t know what comes next.

 

“Mhmm,” Prompto nods, lazy and sleepy, and he seems satisfied with Noct’s half-hearted affection. Prompto slides closer, moves to adjust Noct’s arm so he’s holding him tighter, pulls Noct’s fingers to curl over the jut of one slender hip. Noctis hums his response, lets his fingers trace the curve of Prompto’s hipbone, feels the faintest raised scars of old, faded stretchmarks, from the time before they really knew each other.

 

“Hold me for a while?” Prompto asks, quiet, and now there’s a little hesitance in his voice, too, because cuddling after sex is something they haven’t really approached much. But when they do, it’s in moments like this. Moments when Noctis lets his guard down, when he’s still riding the aftereffects of shocks of magic. Moments where it’s easy to pretend that Noct’s feelings and emotions are just a necessity, something that seems important after they’ve had near-violent sex.

 

Noctis tells himself that, but he’s probably not fooling anyone. Certainly not Ignis, who will come back to check on them later and be greeted with the scent of sex, and the sight of two teenage boys, sprawled naked and half-covered in dirty blankets, napping in the bliss that only follows a really good orgasm. And he’s probably not fooling Prompto either, but honestly, Prompto’s denying it too, so it works out.

**Author's Note:**

> this is another kink meme request gone wrong. someone wanted fisting, and today's my birthday, and i wanted promptis porn, damnit. 
> 
> sorry for inserting my shitty daemon!noct headcanon but when won't that happen? also, a lovely thank you to my RP partner, you know who you are, because i'm shamelessly stealing our precious headcanon for these babies to use for my dirty porn fanfic.
> 
> i'm on tumblr [@destatree](http://destatree.tumblr.com). would love kudos/comments/feedback, as always!


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